


I wish there was another way out

by PrismicGalaxy



Category: Constantine (TV), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Author Is Sleep Deprived, BAMF John, Bisexual John Constantine, Bisexual Nate Heywood, Blood and Injury, Burns, DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV) Season 5, Dehydration, Demonic Possession, Demons, Demons Are Assholes, Desmond's Medallion, Dream Torture, Dreams and Nightmares, Electrocution, Emotional Baggage, Established Sara Lance/Ava Sharpe, Exorcisms, F/F, Gen, Going to Hell, Hallucinations, Head Injury, Hell, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Tagging, Immortality, John Constantine Needs A Hug, John Constantine Whump, John Constantine's Lighter, John Constantine-Centric, John Constantine/Desmond - Freeform, John Whump, Legends of Tomorrow Team are Family, M/M, Magic, Masks, Minor Chas Chandler, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Charlie (DC's Legends of Tomorrow), Other stuff too, Out of Character, Platonic Relationships, Poisoning, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Sara Lance, Psychological Torture, Recovery, So much angst, Souls, Spoilers, Stabbing, Starvation, Symbolism, The Waverider (DC's Legends of Tomorrow), Torture, Whump, Zombies, be kind, because fuck why not, cant get enough of it, demon torturer, eye symbolism, kind of, magic draining, nonbinary demon, realized demonic powers, the newcastle crew, this is my first fic for legends, uhh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:34:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28959543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrismicGalaxy/pseuds/PrismicGalaxy
Summary: Astra doesn't help John in that moment, choosing to let him die and be dragged to hell. Will he get out? Will he be the same? Will I stop asking you questions? Well you won't know till you read the fic!Fic title from another way out by hollywood undead
Relationships: John Constantine & Desmond, John Constantine & Team Legends, John Constantine/Desmond, Sara Lance/Ava Sharpe
Comments: 24
Kudos: 21





	1. I've fallen too often but you'll never keep me down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tw: fire, head injuries, blood, hell, choking, hallucinations, reality warping (like long ass hallways nd shit), mentions of mental institutions  
> the chapter title is from uncontainable by set it off

"Go to hell, John Constantine."

* * *

When he wakes up he's lying on a stone floor. His head is pounding and everything aches. It feels like he's dreaming, everything he can see is blurry and his head feels like it's stuffed with cotton balls. Side effects of going to hell, he guesses. That is, if he actually is in hell. He raises his head to look around before something stops him, clinking. There's a collar around his neck. Annoying. 

"Bloody hell," John whispers. He moves to sit up and survey his surroundings. He squints into the blackness, it's way too dark to see anything. There's no noise and nothing to see. He can't even see his own hands in front of his face. He can't make out any shapes, _anything_ to indicate where he is. It's just silent and cold and black. He prefers being able to see.

"Hello?" He calls. _"Ignis Fatuus_." An orb of gold light poofs into existence and floats in front of him, illuminating the room. It's blank and white, with chains on the wall hanging empty. The bricks that make up the wall are white and stained with age and other things. Suddenly, John's light extinguishes. Not good.

"We'll be having none of that," a voice comes. He tenses and towards the sound. "Magic is forbidden here," they say.

"Where exactly _is_ here?" He asks. Better to get information now, it'll be easier to escape this infernal place. 

"This is your Hell, John Constantine," they answer. Torches flare up near what he guesses is the door. The... demon standing in front of him looks normal, just like a human. The demon has black hair and blacker eyes, like black holes, swallowing even the light. They're wearing a dark leather jacket, soaked through in some places with what's decidedly blood. 

"Very ominous, you would make a great actor, mate. Now let me go. _Fax ardebat_." The fire from the torches swirls and shoot towards the demon, controlled by the words he said. The flames dissipate as soon as they get close and the demon growls. 

He doesn't have an unlimited magical reserve, something's gotta change. Either he dies or he escapes. Though, if he's in hell, he's already dead, isn't he?

"There are rules here," they hiss. "Rules are made for breaking, aren't they?" John quips. The demon snaps his fingers and electricity courses through his body, frying his senses. All he can think about is the pain someone make it STOP. His back arches and he chokes when the chain around his neck pulls tight. And then, it stops. He lies limp on the floor, twitching occasionally from residual electricity. He groans. "That is what happens when you break the rules." 

"You'll have to do better than that, mate." John gives his customary grin tiredly. If his mission is to piss off a demon from hell, he's certainly succeeding. He rubs the bruised skin under the collar, casting a spell near silently while he does. The demon glares at him. "Other's will not be so...…. _kind_ as I." They stalk off, closing the door behind them with a click. John scoffs. Kind, as if. He's alone again in the not-so dark room. 

He pulls the collar off. The spell he had used had loosened the lock and now it was a simple matter of getting through the door. He struggles to his feet and limps towards the door, trying the handle. It gives and the door opens silently. Not locking the door is an amateur move. These demons don't know him very well.

He slowly opens the door fully and steps outside into the hallway. Nothing happens. He looks around the hallway. It's just a long white hallway. More doors lead to what he guesses are other 'torture rooms'. It reminds him of Ravenscar. He tries not to think of that.

He closes the door behind him. It clicks and the sound echoes throughout the hallway, louder than he'd like. He starts down the hallway slowly, on high alert. The hallway seems to keep getting longer and longer, but the exit is right in front of him. It's a paradox and very infuriating.

He huffs and tries to open one of the many doors. It doesn't open and he goes to move on but he can't. His hand is stuck to the handle. He tries to pull away to no avail. He hears whispering, something that wasn't there before in the blank silence and he casts every spell he can think of trying to get unstuck. Suddenly, the torches go out and everything is plunged into darkness. He can hear himself breathing heavily and he can feel the handle his hand is stuck to,,, until he can't. He can't hear anything anymore, except for that whispering, which grows louder. The handle seems to have disappeared and he would start moving but he doesn't. 

The whispers sound familiar and he stops struggling. "...Dez?"


	2. Please come back home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tw: hell, mean people, emotional manipulation, reality warping  
> Title from Where'd You Go by Fort Minor ft. Holly Brooks and Jonah Matranga

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I know, the last chapter was terrible. Well if you're here for chapter two then thanks for sticking around!
> 
> And thanks to everyone who's commented, it really makes me so happy to get feedback on this!
> 
> Also i can't stop thinking about the ball kick paradox that scene made me laugh so hard
> 
> And, hey, quick reminder that it ISN'T weak to cry. John's mindset is not right, you're allowed to cry, he's allowed to cry. Crying is GOOD for you!

_"...Des?"_

* * *

John whips his head around, even though he knows it's useless. He can't see anything. He could've sworn he heard someone, _Des_ , calling his name, but he must've imagined it. There's no one down here. He needs to get out of here, hell is messing with his head.

And then it comes again, so quickly it could've been just a memory, something his brain is making up. But there's no mistaking his voice.

"Des!" John's hand is free and he runs. Runs down the hallway, if there even is a hallway anymore. He can only see blackness stretching in every direction. 

A cough. "Johnny?" His voice comes from his right and John immediately turns that way, slamming into invisible walls. _That hurt_. He whispers something, the same spell from before, and the hallway is illuminated by golden glowing light. But something's different, everything is dark and shrouded in shadows. _Unnatural shadows._ He peeks into the room he heard Desmond's voice from. _Since when did these doors have windows?_ He wonders but shakes off the odd feeling.

He can't see anything in the room, even with the light he summoned. Then, a hand slams against the window and John jumps back before relaxing. It's just Des....... Des!!!

"Desmond, love, I'll get you out." He says, running through his vast knowledge of spells. Is there a spell to unlock a door in hell? Because that is where he is, right? "John I- what are you doing down here?!" Desmond exclaims. "Well, now I'm saving you, Des," he responds absently, more focused on getting him out. He looks through his pockets. All he finds is his lighter and he growls in frustration. He has to get Des out, it's his fault that he's here in the first place, enduring only god knows what. The least he can do is save Des, no matter the cost. He flicks the lighter on and off, trying to think of _something_ that could help him. 

"John, look at me." John pauses his fiddling and looks through the window. Desmond is staring back at him with an unreadable expression. Probably anger, after all, he damned Des, bound his soul to hell. "You can't get me out of here," Des says sadly. "Get yourself out, John, you shouldn't be in hell."

He feels tears stinging his eyes and he blinks them back furiously. "I _should_ be down here, love. I'm cursed, I hurt anyone and everyone who I've cared about. If that's not something that gets you sent to hell, then I don't know what does. Now, I _will_ get you out, you don't deserve this." 

Desmond sighs and his face hardens. "I don't want your help," he snaps. John furrows his eyebrows. "What- Des?" "I _said_ , I don't want your help! It'll end in tragedy and loss. _Again_. Like Newcastle." John stares at him. Des stares coldly right back. Des is right though, isn't he? He'll just fuck something up again, end up hurting more innocent souls. The lighter slips from his hand, hitting the floor with a metallic _thud_. He swallows, trying not to cry. He won't cry, he isn't weak. 

"Alright," he whispers. Desmond's expressionless face doesn't waver. John puts up his mask and smirks. "If that's what you want, love." He picks up his lighter and starts walking away, staring at the floor. Once John's out of sight, tears slip down Desmond's face and he turns away from the window. 

* * *

He walks down the hallway, flicking his lighter.

Click.

The flame flickers, about to go out.

Click.

It brightens, burning clear as day.

John keeps walking. There has to be a way out and he _will_ find it. And he _will_ come back for Des, nothing will stop him.

~~But,,, maybe he deserves to burn in this hell.~~

Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees those shadows spreading across the ground as if they were liquid. That's not normal shadow behavior, he should be worried. He shrugs and keeps moving on. It's probably some lowlife demon inhabiting these walls. It's Keep moving or give in to the crushing sadness that threatens to envelop him. Nothing else matters.

Click.

The shadows shy away from the flame and John sees something up ahead. An open door. He approaches it and peers in. This room is different, it looks like the library on the Waverider, warm and safe and inviting. It's exactly to his memory. Except for one thing, the pictures, pictures all over the walls and tables, of the crew. The eyes are scribbled out or stabbed clean through. He walks into the room and picks up one of the pictures, inspecting it. Behind him, the door bangs shut. "Bloody ominous, isn't it," he mumbles. 

Eyes. Why are the eyes stabbed out? It's more than a little cliche, he didn't think that the demon would be the cheesy horror movie type. He thinks for a second and then flicks open his lighter, burning the picture, just to be safe. He watches it crumble to ashes before looking around the rest of the room. 

_~~Wasn't it darker before?~~ _

It looks normal, cheerful almost. White light shines from above. The books on the shelves are exact replicas of the ones on the ship. He grabs one at random and opens it. Instead of words, it's just smooth and empty whiteness. He should've expected that. After all, this is fake, all an illusion. He might not have even left his cell.

He looks up from the book and blinks. Wasn't there something in front of him? All around him? There's just white nothingness, like the book's pages. He waves his hands out in front of him, noting that the book is gone, to see if there was anything there. He sighs in frustration. He's tired of nothing. Nothing nothing nothing, he wants _something_ to happen, whether it be good or bad. He doesn't even see the door he entered from. There's no way back to that clinical white hallway. Not that he would want to go back.

He doesn't have anything to lose so he walks forward. It's a little strange, like walking on nothing, but he ignores the feeling. There's gotta be an end to all this, somewhere to go, someone to defeat. There always is.

He sighs, eventually, something has to happen. He steps forward and stumbles, falling flat on his face. 

~~_He thinks he hears something crack.  
_ ~~ ~~~~

He starts to get up but something stops him, pressing him down against the ground.

"There you are, John Constantine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I tried to make this longer than the last one. The last chapter I had limited time to write so it came out.... horrible, and pretty short. I edited it, it's much better now, but it is still pretty short seeing as I had a limited amount of time (again, parents be like that).
> 
> So yeah, hopefully I reached my goal of around 1,000 words.


	3. There's nobody but me here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tw: mental institution mention, death, slight gore, starvation, dehydration, zombies, head trauma, mentions of hallucinations, mentions of coma
> 
> The chapter title is from Killer in the Mirror by Set It Off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy this shit!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who commented on the last chapter, it really means a lot to me!! And thank you to everyone who's still reading at this point!

_"There you are, John Constantine."_

* * *

He sighs, annoyed. Why can't he catch a break? Being in hell might have something to do with it. "Sod off, you-" He feels something hit the back of his head and he's out like a light. His captor silently starts dragging him away. 

_John wakes up on hard ground. Where is he? He pushes himself up on his elbows, looking around. He sees trees and more trees, all with dark trunks and darker leaves. There isn't anything else, nothing on the ground. There isn't even a sky, he notes, it's just a void going on forever. Something dull gold shines on the ground. He leans down and picks it up. It's his medallion. How did it even get here? He puts it around his neck and squints into the distance._

_There. He can see some sort of building in the distance, now he has a goal. He starts walking towards the building. He can see that the building looks like it's about to fall, all broken wood walls and a roof that's caving in, so getting inside shouldn't be a problem. When he reaches the house he pushes the rotting door open. It's too dark inside the house to see anything. He pats his pockets, looking for his lighter. It isn't there. He sighs and walks in, not really caring at this point._

_Halfway through feeling the walls for a switch, he trips over something. His hand hits something, probably the switch he was looking for, as he falls and a single lightbulb flickers on, swaying on a thin string. "Bloody hell," he grumbles and pulls himself up. He's been saying that a lot, which is ironic because he's indeed in hell. Probably, he hasn't tuled out an elabprate coma/hallucination combo. He glances at the floor, looking for what tripped him and freezes. It's Sara. He tripped over_ Sara _. He crouches next to her body, frantically feeling for a pulse. Nothing. She's dead. He stands up, taking a deep breath. It's okay, it's probably an illusion, something demons created. he steps around Sara's- the illusions body and goes to the next room. It's much like the first one, devoid of furniture and lit by a single bulb, the light switch is probably connected to all of the rooms._ _And Ray is on the floor. Probably dead. He laughs hollowly. Showing him these things won't break him. He turns to go back to the first room, but there's just a splintering wood wall. No door._

_He hears something behind him, like someone breathing, and whirls around, scanning the room. Nothing, just Nate's body on the floor. "Wait," he mumbles. "Nate wasn't there before." He frowns. What's going on here? He frowns, playing with the medallion absently. Something pushes him to the ground and the breath is knocked out of his lungs. he rolls over, looking at his attacker. Nate stands over him. But something's wrong, his skin is too pale, his lips are tinted blue. He kicks out and zombie Nate falls over. While he's distracted John gets up and runs through the only door, ~~when did that appear?~~ , stumbling slightly. There's a door to the forest in this room, swinging gently in the nonexistent wind. He hears footsteps behind him and he sees Nate shuffling after him. Nate, and the rest of the Legends. Well, he's fucked. _

_He falls again and they were on top of him, grabbing at his face and holding his arms down._ (kinky) _He struggles in their grasp but they're too strong, unnaturally strong. Mick points the heat gun at him and he flinches back, waiting for the fire to burn him. Everything goes dark._

He wakes up, for real this time, breathing harshly. 

_See? It was just a dream_

His arms and legs are shackled to the wall, so he's hanging above the ground. His wrists and ankles ache, which probably means he's been here a while. He looks around. He's back in the cell, the one where Torture Demon was, and someone in a mask is standing in the corner, staring at him. "That's a bit creepy, innit," he rasps. He hasn't had water for a while, or food. 

The figure says nothing.

"Right then, could you perhaps let me go? I'll owe you one." John grins. Still nothing. But then Mask Guy comes closer and snatches something off his neck. The medallion. He's pretty sure he didn't have that when he got here. He thinks back on his dream, didn't he find the medallion in those strange woods? Weird. He glares at Mask Guy. "Give it back," he growls. The medallion disappears in a flash of golden light. John sighs, it's a lost cause. And it probably wasn't real anyway. 

"What do you want, you twat," John snaps. 

For the first time, he speaks.

"To see you suffer, as many others here do, until your soul fades," he says. John smirks, how _cliche_.

"Well I guess you're just gonna have to suffer with me, mate, 'cause I'm not going anywhere for a while."

* * *

Sara sits at the table in her room, trying to read a book. But she's distracted. Everyone is. John just,,, burst into flames, right in front of Ray and Gary. And then disappeared, not even ashes left. They have no way of knowing if he's alive or dead. She sighs and looks up when Nate enters the room, wearing sunglasses for some strange reason. "Yeah?"

"Uh, somethings happening in the bridge," he says and points vaguely in the direction. She gets up and follows Nate out. 

When they get to the bridge, Sara sees what Nate means, or rather doesn't. There's a golden blinding light shining in the middle of the room. She blinks a couple of times, trying to regain her vision, until Nate hands her a pair of sunglasses. She puts them on and walks closer to the light, inspecting it and trying to find the source. It dies down and something drops onto the floor. It's a medallion and it glows dimly, the light pulsing as if in time with a heartbeat. She takes off her sunglasses and picks it up. It's warm to the touch and cracked in some places. This is John's. She would recognize it anywhere, mostly because it's the only one of its kind she's ever seen. 

"Isn't that John's?" Nate asks. She nods. "Well at least we know he's out there, somewhere," she says.

* * *

My [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/kai-and-company). It's mostly random shit I find on my dash, the umbrella academy stuff, legends of tomorrow stuff, shitposts, and other assorted fandom content. You can pop in and say hi or ask a question about the fic, or talk to me!

My [Discord](https://discord.gg/vMYqdAeN5x) server. It doesn't have a topic of any kind, just a safe place for anyone and everyone. 

A [fic snippet](https://kai-and-company.tumblr.com/post/641569788897951744/captain-yes-gideon-there-is-an-anomaly) from a future chapter! (it's not fully fleshed out, more of a script) 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this may have come out later than usual or a day late because I didn't do my usual write around 400 words at 2 am to have a basis for the chapter in the morning, instead, I passed out and slept for idk 6 hours but I hope you enjoyed though. 
> 
> And to clear stuff up, the medallion disappeared of its own accord, torturer no. 2 didn't make it disappear
> 
> Also, I referenced 'Ravenscar' in the first chapter. That was a reference to John's tv show (Constantine. Go check it out it's like $23.99 on Amazon Prime I think), John checked himself into a mental institution called Ravenscar, he's in it on the first episode.  
> (I haven't actually watched it yet, but I read fanfiction okay)


	4. I'm gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tw: starvation, dehydration, blood, stabbing, torture, reality shit  
> The chapter title is from Bullet by Hollywood Undead. I listened to a lot of Hollywood Undead writing this.
> 
> Tw suicide in the next part of the summary
> 
> The actual lyric is "I'll put a bullet in my head and I'm gone, gone, gone", but I tailored it to the chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is coming to you at depression o' clock

_"Well at least we know he's out there, somewhere," she says._

* * *

John doesn't know how long he's been here. Years, months, seconds, there's no way to tell time here. After some point, the chains holding him up just disappeared and he's leaning against the wall now, eyes half-closed. He hasn't had anything to eat or drink for too long, and it's showing. Also, _there aren't any bathrooms here._

He hears the door unlocking at some point and he tries to get up, ultimately failing. He's burnt out. It swings open but nothing comes out. They're taunting him, he realizes distantly, freedom is so close but he can't reach it. He can't do anything. He pulls his lighter out of his pocket.

Click.

The flame flickers before going out.

The lighter slips from his hand, cracking into pieces. He goes limp.

_He's dreaming again, back in that forest. Except something's different, he wasn't tied down to the ground before, was he? He pulls against the restraints, his movements sluggish. He's too tired and dehydrated and starving to muster up the energy to break out. Someone approaches him, one of the zombie Legends probably, with a knife in hand, glinting in the dying light. He closes his eyes, waiting for the pain._

* * *

Desmond paces his small dark cell. Something's not right, he can feel it in the air, as if hell itself was holding its breath, waiting for something. But what, he doesn't know. He can't do anything though, he's trapped. 

_But what if it's John?_

No, if John heeded his words, he would be out of here by now. Though, John was never one to listen to anyone. Shit. He has to do _something_. He thinks back to the last time he saw John, a wave of guilt hitting him. He was so horrible to him.

He groans in frustration and jiggles the doorknob, less trying to get out and more just going through motions. The doorknob glows deep red for a moment, he almost misses it, and then the lock clicks and the door swings outwards silently. 

_What??_

He walks through the door cautiously, for all he knows, it could be a trap. Nothing happens. He's free, just like that. He takes a moment to think about that, he hasn't been free for a long time, and then takes off running down the hall. He has to find John. He has to save him.

After a couple of minutes, he's frustrated. The hallway keeps on getting longer and longer. How did John get anywhere, let alone find him? It's a mystery.

He's walking now, trying to conserve energy for when he needs it. But he feels strangely energized, different from all of the years spent in isolation, always tired and so lonely. He shakes his head, trying to stop the thoughts, best not to think of that right now, he has something to do.

Lost in thought, he isn't looking where he's going and runs straight into something, falling to the floor. He glares up at whatever it is. It's a demon with a strange, and honestly ridiculous, mask. Mask Guy looks at him impassively, reaching down to grab his arm. He instinctively pushes Mask Guy away and red flames tear through the demon. Mask Guy disappears with a warped scream, the mask clattering to the floor in a pile of ashes.

Desmond looks at his hands. How the fuck did he do that? Well, it doesn't matter, he's in demon home base so Mask Guy will respawn any minute. He gets back up, brushing ashes from his shirt, and keeps moving ahead. If there was a demon, surely there's something, or someone, worth guarding in that direction.

* * *

_John's arms and chest are bleeding heavily and he's barely conscious. His shirt is soaked through with blood and sweat and in tatters. He lies limply against the hard ground. He's been here for at least an hour, maybe more. His internal clock isn't working very well. His eyes flutter, he's trying to stay awake. Blood loss and falling asleep isn't good, and if he dies here then he'll just wake up in his cell, facing more torture. He's tired of the torture._

_It's become a little old at this point, just blood and torture and never ending pain. He lets out a sigh. He's given up on any hope getting out of this, oh what a mess he has made for himself. He's very stupid, but he's John Constantine, he does stupid in spades. He feels something sharp and cold touch his throat, the zombies are back._

_He thinks he hears something like voices, but the knife on his throat plunges down and he can't even scream._

* * *

Desmond comes across an open door and peeks in. The sight that greets him makes him panic. John, slumped against the wall, eyes closed.

He rushes over to his side and pulls John into his lap, stroking his hair away from his face. John's eyes are moving under his eyelids, which is strange. Dreams are uncommon here. He thinks for a moment, if he can get into John's dream, he can see what's happening to him. He leans forward and touches his own head to John's, concentrating hard.

Everything is enveloped in blinding red light and Desmond blinks to clear his vision. He's in a dark forest. He looks around, there are people surrounding something on the ground near him, and there's a house in the distance, clearly falling apart. He moves closer towards the people to get a better look. The people are surrounding John, who's bleeding out from too many wounds, almost dead. Some blond lady with dead eyes holds a knife to his throat. They all look up at his presence. All of them give him a bad feeling.

(Des wouldn't know the Legends, he's describing zombie Sara)

"Hey!" He shouts. "Get away from him!" The lady stabs the knife downwards and Desmond snaps, fiery knives rain down on the torturers and they disintegrate.

_He probably should address that at some point._

He pulls the straps holding John down off, trying to ignore the blood, and suddenly, they're back in the cell. Desmond looks down at John's still unconscious body and taps his cheek gently. 

"John, you gotta wake up," he whispers anxiously. What if he doesn't? He doesn't know how this dream torture works, especially with a special case like John. He can see that John's body took the trip with his soul to hell.

John's eyes snap open suddenly, staring up at Desmond. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops, my hand slipped
> 
> Sorry for getting this out late, I'll work on the next chapter. Hopefully, it'll go up later today
> 
> The stupid in spades thing is from John's tv show 'Constantine', i reccomend watching it even though it ends in a cliffhanger.


	5. I'm going down like the Titanic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tw: (just realized that I didn't put this so apologies) sickness, death mention (death totem does things like that)  
> Chapter title from Eyes blue like the Atlantic by sista prod, specifically pt 2 because that's even better than the first one. Both are a vibe tho

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eobard Thawne is now Eobitch Thot  
> This isn't related to the chapter :)
> 
> Just a heads up, it kind of switches POVs without my customary split thing
> 
> And uh listen: I had this chapter almost done and I FELL ASLEEP on my laptop, resetting all of my progress. Now luckily I was writing this chapter in, like,,, segments so I already had a saved version but fuck I'm sorry,  
> And I'm turning autosave on my word counter (I use it to count words and occasionally spell check) so this shouldn't happen again, there should always be a backup

_John's eyes snap open suddenly, staring up at Desmond._

* * *

"Des, what're you doin' here?" John slurs. Des looks down at him, clearly worried. "I'm trying to help you, I just found you, unconscious," he responds. He doesn't know if it's just his blurry vision but when he looks at Des, it looks like there's a red haze surrounding him, like an aura. He reaches up to touch his face and freezes. The demonic energy he's emitting is almost overwhelming. This isn't Des. 

He scrambles out of Not-Desmond's lap, his back hitting the wall. "You're not Des," he hisses. Not-Des looks confused and more than a little taken aback. He reaches towards John, to comfort him, and John flinches back. "Stay away from me." Not-Des frowns. "What are you talking about?" He asks a little desperately. He found his ex-boyfriend unconscious and now he's accusing him of being a demon, more than a little worrying. 

"You're a demon, and it's cruel to do shit like this but–" He laughs. "–I would expect nothing less from you slimy _bastards,_ it's what you do. Well, you aren't fooling _me,_ unlike those poor sods you've probably taken advantage of in the past." God, he needs a drink. 

Not-Des looks at him sadly. "Johnny, I'm not a demon, and I think you have a fever." Now that he looks at John properly, he can see that his face is almost white, except for two red spots burning on his cheeks. He reaches forward just to feel John's head. "NO! No. I can- demonic energy everywhere, all from _you_." John presses himself into the wall as much as he can. "Keep your bloody hands off of me," he snaps. 

Not-Des recoils and looks at him, concerned. "Alright, just... can you stand, I think we should leave here." He glances out the door. The hallway is still empty, for now. John gets up and tries to start walking, intent on making it out on his own without "help" from Not-Des. Keyword: tries. He falls and he would've hit his head if it wasn't for Not-Des catching him. He picks John up, quite easily. John glares at him but doesn't make any move to get out, which is worrying because the John Constantine Desmond knows would've cast some spell or just punched him by now. 

He starts walking, out the door and down the hall. If he's learned anything from the whispers he's heard from the demons passing his cell, it's that this place was made to trick and twist things, like a mirror funhouse. If he ignores the illusions he'll reach the end instead of walking aimlessly on and on until he collapses from exhaustion. 

He reaches a dead-end. There isn't any way to keep moving forward and when he looks back, all he sees is more hallway, as per usual. He looks down at John in his arms. He's limp and unmoving, eyes closed and breathing shallowly. The fever must be getting worse, he notes. He frowns and looks back up, surveying the wall. It's white stained brick, like all the other walls in the hallway, but there's something strange about it. A sort of energy seems to emanate from it.

He nudges it with his foot, it goes through the wall. It seems to be some sort of illusion, this whole place is made of them so he would expect nothing less. He steels himself for whatever might come and walks through. 

He steps out into some dark hell city. The only light comes from flickering street lamps that fail to chase the shadows away and a dim red glow from the sky. Des looks around. People, no, _demons_ walk around everywhere, filling the streets and the sidewalks and mostly ignoring him and John. And the smell, the smell of heavy smoke, making him gag. He supposed John would be used to that smell though. 

He starts walking down a road. The more he explores, the more of a chance they have of finding a way out and then getting out, and that's what he intends to do. After a couple of minutes, he's stopped short, walking into someone and almost dropping John. He backs up with an annoyed look on his face to yell at whatever or whoever is blocking his way, and freezes. A demon glares at him with a menacing smile. That probably isn't good. 

* * *

Sara sighed. They had been working with the medallion for almost a day now, to no avail. It's almost as if the medallion is just a normal medallion, but it can't be because, y'know, glowing and radiating heat. All not normal medallion things to do. She sighs again and looks over at Ray. "Any progress?" She asks. Ray shrugs. "Well, I'm trying to hook the medallion up to a tracker and this magic interpreter that John and I worked on before he went missing," he responds, using tweezers to twist wires together. "It's kind of hard, seeing as a medallion has no technology whatsoever. I don't know if this will work, but if it doesn't we can always ask Nora to help!"

He continues talking about what he was doing and Sara turns away and tunes him out, trying to make some sort of plan for when they find John because they _will_ find him. "Uhh, Sara?" Ray sounds worried. 

"Yeah, Ray?" Sara turns around to see the medallion hovering over the table and glowing red. "I'm pretty sure it's not supposed to do that," Ray supplies helpfully. "I certainly didn't trigger it, I think," he adds hastily. She walks closer to it, ignoring Ray's "Careful, it could be dangerous!" and touches it. Instantly she's teleported to some sort of flat plane, like when she was inside her own mind watching Mallus and the death totem wreak havoc. She looks around before she hears a noise, someone talking, and turns towards the sound. 

Mist swirls in the air, with an image imposed on top of it. A magical tv of a sort. She looks at the scene in front of her. Someone was backed up against the wall, carrying someone else. They looked familiar, she notes. There was someone else there too, glaring at the duo. She gets closer to try and make details out and inhales sharply. That was Desmond, the one John fucked the timeline up for, and John himself, in Desmond's arms. The attacker lashes out with a chain just as the mist fades away. She rushes forward. "No, no, no show me what happened!" She needs to see if they were okay, even though she has a sinking feeling that, if they were where she thought they were, they wouldn't be okay for long. Everything else disappears and she's back on the ship, breathing heavily. 

Ray rushes over, when did he get all the way across the room anyway, and looks at her worriedly. "Sara, what happened? You touched the medallion and then just... disappeared, kind of like John," he says while attempting to give Sara some water. Sara waves him off. "I know where John is. Buckle up and bring your holy water, because we're going to hell."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for missing 3 days, I tried to make this longer than usual
> 
> also, I posted this late (was supposed to be on Tuesday), because I got sidetracked looking at Tumblr discord emotes
> 
> and holy shit it's Thursday, much apologies.
> 
> Also, call me Kai or Cass, whichever you vibe with idgaf.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos much much appreciated!! Seriously! They give me motivation to write!!


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